Hands on Approach
by broadwaybaby529
Summary: "'What's wrong with professors' she shot back, knowing she was treading into dangerous territory, knowing that the look in Teddy's eyes was one never before directed at her. "It's a common enough fantasy." Teddy stood and she couldn't mistake the bulge behind his dark jeans, and Victoire knew that she would have to take the leap tonight or she would never get the chance."


Hands On Approach

Disclaimer – All hail Queen Jo.

Warnings – Smut, swearing, drinking, overuse of adjectives, lack of editing, ect.

Pairing – Teddy L./Victoire W.

Rating – M

Hands on Approach

Junior Professor Victoire Wealsey glanced up from the mountain of parchment before her and caught sight of the room's sole other occupant, her oldest friend and the full time Hogwarts professor under whom she had been mentoring, Teddy Lupin.

Teddy, or Professor Lupin, (the second), as she had been forcing herself to remember for the past two months, was stretched out over his own grading, his large body slung lazily over the chair, scrolls of parchment propped against his bent knees. Teddy hardly looked the role of stodgy old professor, not with the dark jeans visible under his robes, and the way his muscled chest seemed constricted, stretching against the uniform button down shirt. The now turquoise hair, the color it turned when he was most at ease, was mussed from habitual primping and fidgeting that Victoire understood all too well as the by-product of grading fourth years on the process of becoming insect animagi.

In short, Victoire thought, her own grading entirely forgotten in the wake of such a far more appealing activity as watching Teddy's Adam's apple dip and bob in his long stretch of throat, he looked like the kind of professor that young girls fantasized about. Young women too, she couldn't help but admit.

Hell, her own desire to be bent over Professor Lupin's desk and taught a lesson had been the source of distraction that kept her up at night, kept her fantasizing about their weekly grading sessions heating up, turning her lustful desires into pleasurable realities.

Of course, the problem, one of many, was that the handsome man seated just across the room, was no seducible stranger of distance acquaintance. He was her oldest and dearest friend, truly one of the most important people in her life. It simply wasn't worth the risk of ruining their friendship because she found him completely irresistible. The larger, more pressing problem, was that she found him irresistible in ways that were far more permanent than a shag in the Transfiguration classroom, but she had yet to own up to _those_ __particular emotions, even as she considered how wonderful it would be to simply curl into his arms and stay there.

"Vic," she heard him say, and realized that she had been staring at him across the room for the better part of five minutes.

"Yes, Professor?" she said with a twinkle in her voice. Best friends deserved to be teased – she was only doing her duty.

"Don't be a brat," he said with a scowl in her direction, though she could have sworn that she heard the catch in his slightly strained voice.

"I'm sorry," she huffed after a moment, and Teddy turned from the chair to look at her. "It's just that I swear we were smarter than these kids when we went here." She held up an inked parchment whose original text was barely visible under the edits she had made. "Not only did they misspell animagus, but they did it four different ways." She let out her breath. "Never trust a spelling charm, you tell them, but do they listen, oh no."

Teddy shot her a smile and made his way to the far cabinet, returning with two tumblers of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

"You were always the smart one in school," he said with a grin, before pulling off his outer robe and dropping into the chair nearest to her. "We had different reputations, as you might recall." Of course, Teddy was the good hearted bad boy, the trouble-maker, rebel, with as much a dash of Sirius Black or James Potter running through his blood as his own father, at least according to her Uncle Harry. Still, Teddy had performed admirably in school despite it, and she had always been secretly proud when he aced an exam or paper. She had been adamant to follow in her Aunt Hermione's footsteps, and had painstakingly bested every academic challenge that had come her way. It was rather incredible how inexorably linked their paths had seemed, despite all of those differences.

"You were smart too," she replied, accepting the offered drink and trying not to focus on the way those dark jeans fit him his legs and behind so perfectly. Then she laughed, remembering their time at school together. "When you weren't chatting up the prefects, that is." Teddy raised an eyebrow at her, which had the effect of making her breathing shallow and her lips aching to be touched.

"Pot, meet kettle," he said teasingly. "Or am I mistaken in believing that you spend the whole of your seventh year flirting with Longbottom?"

Victoire colored and shot him a glare.

"I was his research assistance," she said defensively, though she could swear that his eyes seemed darker now, laden with something mysterious and new. "And you weren't even at Hogwarts then," she added, "so what do you know?"

Teddy laughed, a hearty, masculine sound, and finished his drink.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten how vicious the grapevine can be," he said with a smile. "When it can't find new material it just cycles through the old." He raised his eyebrows again and added, "and professors, I mean really?"

"What's wrong with professors?" she shot back, knowing she was treading into dangerous territory, knowing that the look in Teddy's eyes was one never before directed at her. "It's a common enough fantasy." At this she drained her drink as well, and Teddy stood, picking up the two glasses. She couldn't mistake the bulge behind his dark jeans, and Victoire knew, in that moment, that she would have to take the leap tonight or she would never get the chance.

"That's the problem with it," he replied, back to her, bent over the desk and pouring their second drinks. "It's rather common." He shot her a dangerous smile and Victoire knew they were playing to the same end. "After all, what's really the appeal of it?"

She stepped out of her robe and stood, leaning against the arm of the chair.

"Surely you don't need me to explain the appeal," she said, watching as he raised that damned dangerous eyebrow again and grinned.

"What if I want you to?" he asked, the sound sending a powerful spike of heat to the apex of her thighs. Two could play at his little game, she thought.

Instead of responding, she pushed off from the chair and made for his desk. For all that she was the offspring of a Veela, Victoire rarely made a habit of seducing people, a fact which should have made her insecure, should have made her pause and take stock of her own intentions, of the evening's potential outcomes – it was, after all, what she always did.

But the expression in Teddy's eyes, the deepening of his hair to a sensual, mysterious green, had Victoire throwing her cautions out the window. She had been wanting him for long enough, and no amount of rational or logic would alter that fundamental fact.

"Professor Lupin," she said, tonguing his name deliberately, "I'm so glad I caught you alone." She wasn't entirely sure where the words came from, but they felt right, and the strength of his gaze upon her never wavered.

"And why might that be, Miss Weasley?" he asked, his eyes now following the whole of her body, and, from the heat she felt at his inspection, Vic could assume that he liked what he saw.

"You see," she began, circling the desk where he was perched, the enormity of him, all sinew and resonating lust, a heady concoction indeed, "it's with regard to the marks on my most recent essay." Teddy raised an eyebrow.

"Simply having the top grade in the class isn't sufficient for you, Miss Weasley?' he intoned, his voice low and drawling. "You must be perfect?" she glanced up at him, her mind hazy with her own desire for his mouth, for the silky smoothness of his hair, as she pulled tightly upon it.

"I confess to something of the sort," she whispered up, longing for his hands to move from the desk where they supported him, to wrap around her waist, to slide up the expanse of her thighs and press against her hold folds.

"Then perhaps you'd best reevaluate your extra curricular activities," he whispered, his voice nearly a growl.

"Sir?" she could not help but notice the stirring behind his jeans, and felt an odd sense of triumph and femininity – he wanted her, and by god she wanted him back.

"Don't believe that your amorous attentions to a certain classmate of yours have escaped my attentions, Miss Wealsey. They haven't. And though I needn't press the point, it is of my opinion that a lady of your intelligence could have set your sights more discerningly." They were so close now, so aware of each other's mouths and chests that they nearly breathed the other in.

"Who?" she asked him, almost whispering the words into his lips. "Someone smart and capable?" she raised an eyebrow, "older, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," he repeated, nearly choking out the word.

"Worldly," she added.

"The ways that count," Teddy replied, his lips so very close. How long were they going to torment themselves this way.

"And what ways would those be?" Victoire urged, feeling the slightest quiver in her own voice.

"The ways of love," Teddy replied in a loaded whispered, and she knew her self-control was shot.

"Show me," she breathed.

His lips were warm and possessive, but infuriatingly slow, exploring her mouth with such deliberate intent as to surely drive her completely insane with her lust for him. She pressed back against him, enjoying the growl of pleasure that drew from the base of his throat. Acting on whim, she bent down and placed a heated kiss to his neck, to the skin across his collarbone, leaving a trail of needy kisses in her wake.

He pulled her back towards him, and this time his hands slunk around to her hips, to hold her still in their shared space.

"Now, Miss Weasley," he said in mock admonishment, "that tie is not properly knotted according to Hogwarts standard. I'm afraid I'll be forced to dole out some punishment for your indiscretion."

"And what might I expect, Sir?" she asked, "essays, lines?"

"I had something a little more classic in mind," he whispered. Then he leaned down to her ear, teasing Victoire with every breath, hot upon her skin. "Turn around," he told her, "and place your hands on the desk."

She did as she was told, unable to ignore the heat pooling in the base of her belly, the desire fluttering through the whole of her body.

Teddy left her line of sight, and Victoire could feel her arousal pulse and quicken. She knew was kind of display she made, bent over the desk in her school skirt, legs spread slightly, flush taking root across the skin of her cheeks and neck.

"What sort of punishment might that be?" she asked him, craning to see behind her.

There was a slight _whoosh_ and Teddy's hand met her skirt, bringing both down onto her ass in a single swing. She bucked forward slightly at the sensation, but there was no denying the effect it had on her body, or the wetness seeping down onto her thighs. Those effects, all from a single kiss and spank? She was liable to go off at any minute at this rate.

"You shall speak when spoken too," he reprimanded. "And you shall call me sir, am I clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Lupin," she said, enjoying the hiss of breath that Teddy sucked in when she blatantly ignored his command. She heard his hand move again, and felt the delicious sting of his hand on her behind.

"No," he said, after a moment's pause, the room echoing with the sound of his words. "I think I'm too easy on you." He shuffled behind and Victoire felt the full awareness of his presence – oh how desperately she wanted him to touch her, to take him. She felt the flip of her skirt, and cool air swished around her behind. Then Teddy's hands were on her, cupping the flesh roughly and making Victoire buck forward into the desk.

"Much more responsive," Teddy said, his voice laden with his own lust, needy and demanding. "Let's try again, shall we?" She couldn't deny the heat that raced through her body when his hand made contact with the light fabric of her panties, and she pressed herself into the desk, trying to steady her racing lust.

"Still not enough," she heard him murmur, as he palmed her behind roughly. Then his hands molded to the side of her panties, and he slowly, deliberately, began to pull them down her backside.

Soon the cool air was hitting her exposed skin, and Victoire felt Teddy's gaze upon the red handprints he'd left upon her. The idea of his hand smacking her exposed ass was giving Victoire a heady feel, and she found she was rather desperately awaiting contact.

"I'll give you one last chance," he said, leaning down to growl into her ear. "What do you call me?" She would have hula danced in the Great Hall wearing a coconut bra if it meant Teddy would touch her at that moment, his scent over powering and delicious, his body radiating heat from beside her.

"Teddy," she hissed, the words forming a soft scream as he brought his open palm down upon her behind.

"You like this, don't you?" he began, his voice husky and teasing, his fingers trailing the space from her ass to her hip, to the curves between her thighs. She parted her legs for him, not caring how wanton she felt under the weight of his gaze. Then one finger brushed the tip of her clit, pulsing and throbbing, and she pressed herself into him, to the infuriating sound of chuckling.

"You're wet for teacher," he murmured. "It's a good thing I'm feeling so accommodating tonight." She wanted to smack the smug tone right out of his voice, but his damned finger was still rubbing circles over her pulsing clit, and she could barely think to get in a word edgewise.

Then he slid his finger between her thighs, parting the folds of her wetness and slipping inside of her, first one finger, then another, the sensation of finally being touched overwhelming and delicious, until Victoire couldn't help but rock forward onto his hand, moaning curses.

Then, without warning, he slid his fingers from her body, slipping them between his lips instead and growling.

"You taste delicious," he murmured, and her body flushed at the words, "if you don't mind, I'd like to have some more."

He knelt down behind her and then he was between her legs, his mouth curving gently around her most sensitive folds, as she moved back into his mouth, his touch, the way his tongue edged open her wet pussy and slipped inside, a wild and madcap pleasure that had her bucking and gripping the desk.

"More," she growled at him, "please, I need more." And he gave it, sliding one finger around to slip inside her, pulsing, as she rocked back against it. And then he wrapped his thumb around her clit and pinched.

The result was instant, and Victoire rode Teddy's fingers as she crested her orgasm, taking the whole pleasures of his efforts in one delicious sweep, chanting his name until she finally began to come down from her high, even as mini pulses still whispered through her body.

She was pressed against the desk, panting in the after math of her pleasure, when Teddy finally moved around to greet her, an expression of self-satisfaction etched across his face.

"Responsive, are we, Miss Weasley?" she tried to scowl at him, but her body still ran hot and needy under his gaze, and she found herself unable to focus on anything other than the look of him, the fullness of his desire for her.

"I want you," she whispered, her voice husky.

"You're going to have to ask properly," he replied, his own deep and full of all the lust that she felt.

"Professor Lupin," she whispered, "sir." His eyes flashed with power and she continued, enjoying her hold over him so immensely. "Please sir, please take me."

He was out of his dark jeans in a moment, pulling his button down shirt off and tossing it to the floor. For a moment she lamented the quickness with which he disrobed, but brushed off the thought – they would have time for the slow sweetness later, for now she was just desperately in need of his touch.

Finally, he pulled off his boxer briefs, dropping them to the side, and Victoire got a full view of his delicious nakedness. Seemingly unable to help herself, she licked her lips at its fullness, at the thick and pulsing desire that would soon be bringing her so much pleasure.

But neither of them could wait much longer, so she repeated her plea, her begging for him, and soon he was back behind her, pressing her against the desk and sliding the fullness of his cock across her slit until she was cursing his name.

He drew back, and thrust all the way inside her, and Victoire screamed, full on screamed, as she felt full with pleasure and need and something so desperate she was hardly sure she could wait a moment longer. So she thrust herself back into him, pressing his cock even deeper inside her body until they were moving as one, a union of thrusting and demanding and pulsing. She wasn't going to last long, and she was sure he wouldn't either, now with the way he seemed to be growing so desperate, pushing and taking until she was sure she would absolutely explode. One hand came around to cup her breast through her shirt, and then she was riding his cock in abandon, taking, taking, taking, until they both neared the height of pleasure, until she was sure she that she was losing her mind to her most carnal desires. Then Teddy slid into her one last time and they shattered together, coming apart at the seams as they rode and took and coasted across their most base pleasures, finally collapsing together against the desk, slick with sweat and flush, and never ever feeling better.

As her heart began to slow back to its normal rhythm, Victoire slowly felt her reality seep in around her. She had slept with _Teddy_ , in a moment of desperate lust, and now they were going to have to deal with the consequences to their friendship.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to crack," he said with a smile, not bothering to hide his nakedness, as he leaned against the desk.

"Come again?" she asked, not fully understanding.

"Maybe in few minutes," he replied. "For now, I'm too busy enjoying watching you overanalyze everything about this." Vic scowled at him.

"I am not that predictable," she all but growled. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Oh no?" she shook her head, and he continued. "See, when I realized I was in love with you, say when we were about seven and nine, I accepted it as fact and moved on." She could feel the gears in her mind working overtime. "When you realize you were in love with me, you spend two months overanalyzing what it will do to our friendship before finally succumbing to your lustful fantasies in a Hogwarts classroom."

Victoire blinked, unable to fathom what Teddy was saying, what she understood from the ridiculous smile and the warmth spreading across her whole body.

"You've been in love with me for 12 years?" she managed, when nothing else sensible came to mind. He grinned, goofy and sexy and all too wonderful, and Victoire Weasley realized in that moment, that the two of them had been in love for much, much longer than that.

"Of course," Teddy said, his grinning broadening, "and I think you've loved me back." She wanted to call him out on being smug or cocky, but he was right, of course he was right. It had always been Teddy.

"Of course," she said, then smiled wickedly at him, enjoying the power behind her new joy, her new love, adding, "Professor Lupin." And for many hours after that there was no more talking to heard from the Transfiguration class.


End file.
